


The First Chance Meeting

by eeksquee



Series: Inexorable as the Tide [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 20:51:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11066889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeksquee/pseuds/eeksquee
Summary: Young Marian Hawke meets a strange boy in the woods outside Lothering.





	The First Chance Meeting

Her parents had warned her time and again about the dangers that lurked in the forest, but Marian Hawke shrugged off the dire warnings of wolves and templars behind every tree and ventured in regardless, compelled by the warmth of the day and her rebellious streak. She figured that at the ripe old age of fifteen she’s more than capable of looking after herself. And the forest was fragrant with sun-warmed pine needles, rich earth, and the promise of ripening berries. _What_ , she thought, _could possibly happen this close to home and on such a glorious day_. She walked on, enjoying the birdsong and the warmth of the sun that filtered through the branches. 

Venturing deeper into the woods than she’d ever dared to before, Marian found a berry patch beside a gently burbling stream. The fruit was just coming into its peak and she greedily picked all the ripe fruit she could find, oblivious to the world-at-large and lost in delight. A twig snapped nearby and she froze, berry-stained fingers halfway to her mouth. _Probably just an animal_ , she assured herself as she tried to control the pounding of her heart, but she never was a good liar and fear rooted her to the spot. She tried to will her legs to move, to flee, when another crash came through the underbrush and there was a muffled curse off to her right. 

A boy, a couple of years older than her, stumbled into the clearing. “Stupid nature,” he muttered, taking his vengeance out on the vine that had tripped him. She watched him dust off his clothes and smooth the length of blond hair bound at the nape of his neck, her fear and surprise replaced by a sort of amusement. He looked very much like the barn cat did when it fell from the ledge in the horse’s stall, working very hard to recover its dignity as if to tell the world it had meant to do that. It was several seconds before the boy noticed her, looking at her with a wry grin. 

“Please tell me I don’t have twigs in my hair,” he said by way of greeting.

She tried to stifle a giggle. “No, you’re fine there,” she said with a grin, “but I think your trousers are a loss.” 

He looked down, noting the dark green streaks on both knees and sighed. “Perhaps you’re right, but it’s not like they were mine to begin with, so not much of a loss.” He turned back to her and gave her an appraising glance, noticing the state of her fingers and the dark berry stains on her blouse and grins back. “Looks like I’m not the only one with wardrobe issues today,” he laughed.

This earned him a soft laugh in return. “Would you like some?” she offered, gesturing at the bush.

“Why not? I haven’t eaten since...” he looked skyward and counted on his fingers. “I think it was yesterday.” He sauntered over to the bush and started looking for the juiciest berries that were left.

“Oh! Really?” she gasped in surprise and realized belatedly that she was gawking at him. “I’m sorry,” she said, eyes downcast. 

“Don’t be,” he said matter-of-factly. “Any time a pretty girl offers to share her hard-won berries I make it a point to not notice anything else.” 

She blushed at his use of the word “pretty” and glanced up at him shyly. His warm brown eyes were twinkling at her and her moment of uneasiness passed. 

“So,” he ventured, “could you tell me where I am? I got a bit...turned around.”

“You’re just outside Lothering. If you’re looking for food and lodging, I’m sure they could help you at the chantry there.”

He snorted a laugh. “Yeah, I think I’ll pass.”

“Oh...” she hesitated, thinking of what her parents would say, before continuing, “I guess maybe you could stay in our barn.” 

He thought for a moment, considering the offer. He opened his mouth to answer when there was the sound of more running in the underbrush and a rustle of branches nearby. Startled, she cried out in alarm and shot a bolt of lightning at the source of the noise before she knew what she was doing. 

It seemed as if time had stopped, all sounds of birds and even the sighing of the wind in the branches died away. She looked at the deer lying dazed and twitching in the ferns. Her eyes were wide with shock and fear rekindled in her belly. “Oh, no,” she whimpered. “No, no, no....” Hot tears edged past her lashes, spilling down her cheeks and she crumpled to the ground. Guilt and shame and fear all crushing down on her.

She was surprised a moment later to find the boy crouching next to her, rubbing small circles of comfort on her back and a look of compassion and understanding in his eyes. “Why aren’t you running to tell the templars what I did?” she whispered through tear-induced hiccups.

“Why would I do that? I’m just glad I didn’t get such a welcome,” he said with gentle humor. He stood and went to the deer, which was still lying dazed. She looked on with red-rimmed eyes as he knelt and lay his hands on the beast’s head. The animal started, but the boy calmly whispered something and a blue glow emanated from his hands and traveled down the deer’s body. Looking no worse for wear, the deer staggered back to its feet and took off through the trees. Dusting at his already-stained trousers, the boy stood in front of her expectantly.

“Y-you’re a mage?” she gasped.

“Well spotted,” he grinned at her incredulity. “Hello, Pot, my name is Kettle, pleased to meet you.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks and grinned a watery grin, nervously tucking a strand of her black hair behind her ear. “That’s better,” he said. “Eyes as blue as yours should never be red with tears.”

Once again she blushed at his compliment and ducked her head. “If my parents ever found out what I did....” She trailed off, thinking of the yelling she’d be in for. Out of fear for her safety, she knew, but still unpleasant.

“My lips are sealed,” he assured her, making a locking motion over his lips and throwing away the key. He offered her his hand to help her stand and there was only a moment of hesitation before she took it. They held on for a moment longer than necessary and a moment of profound understanding and sympathy passed between them. He cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed, and broke contact. “Seriously, we’ve yet to be properly introduced. I’m An–”

A shout rang out through the trees. Angry male voices were getting louder and closer. “Over there! It came from over there!”

The boy’s eyes were large and frightened in his suddenly pale face. “You’d better run,” he said before he turned and followed his own advice.

Marian spared only a glance at the boy’s back as he darted through the trees before she ran in the opposite direction. She cursed at herself for being so stupid. If it hadn’t been for her reflexive action at that poor deer, the boy’s pursuers might not have sensed them. _Templars_ , she thought, it had to be.

Thinking back on all the things her father had ever told her about evading templars, she headed, not for home, but for the warren of caves nearby. The sounds of pursuit faded into the distance, veering off after the boy, and she thought of his warm brown eyes, wishing fervently that he would be okay. 

***

As he ran, Anders thought about the girl he’d just met and cursed at himself for being so stupid. If he’d only run when he first saw her he would’ve been away from the blasted templars. If he’d only run when she unleashed the lightning they would’ve been after her and he’d be able to make a clean getaway. The last thought surprised him and he felt suddenly ashamed. He stopped running, having reached a decision to a question he hadn’t known had been asked and called out to his pursuers. “Hey, Mykkel! Do they teach all templars those stealth maneuvers or are you particularly gifted?”

The templar he’d addressed came crashing through the trees, looking incredibly out of place in the heavy armor of his order. Anders felt the sudden loss of his mana and sank to the ground with a groan. No matter how many times he’d escaped and would escape, he would never get used to the feeling of loss and emptiness when the templars drained his power. _At least they didn’t smite me_ , he thought dazedly. 

Ser Mykkel stepped towards him with murder in his eyes. Two more templars emerged from the trees and he knew what came next was going to be painful. 

“Anders,” Ser Mykkel sneered the word as if it were a particularly noxious thing. “I’m going to enjoy this.” The other knights moved to his sides and held his arms. Mykkel slowly removed a gauntlet, circling the restrained mage, and backhanded him with it.

Anders spat out a mouthful of blood and looked up at the templar, defiance burning in his eyes. “Not half as much as I will,” he laughed weakly. 

Anger contorted Mykkel’s features and he brought the gauntlet back for another swing. But Anders had already closed his eyes, his face a mask of serenity. He was already thinking of bright blue eyes and a berry-stained mouth. 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this years ago, but never posted it, and came across it while going through old Google Docs. I'd planned on making it a series, but we all know about best-laid plans.


End file.
